For Whom the Bell Tolls
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: The Towers of Doom rang out. Death was their melody. The Raven Lord and Grave Keeper their conductors. And the people of the Nexus their audience.


**For Whom the Bell Tolls**

"One, two, three four five. The Raven Lord leaves none alive." Kara looked up at him. "Five," she whispered. "He presses his advantage."

Jastes ignored her and instead focused on his handiwork. There was little work available in the town that once bore the name of Vibrance, now named the Towers of Doom. But craftsmen were always welcome. The destruction wrought by the Raven Lord and Grave Keeper regularly left areas of the town in ruins. And those citizens who could pay often requested his services. The services of one who could create, rather than destroy.

"One, two, three, four," Kara whispered. "The grave, it knocks at raven's door."

Jastes grunted. So the Grave Keeper had evened out the battlefield, and now owned as many 'towers of doom' as his rival realm lord. A shame, really. It meant that the battle waging outside would last longer.

"How long as she been like this?"

He glanced at Telden – his friend. One of the few who was still alive in Vibrance. In another life, he and Kara might have been made for each other. Now, life was far away from all of them.

"A long time," he murmured. "Almost as long as the battle has been waged."

"Time," Telden grunted. He helped himself to some rum. "Does that mean anything anymore?"

Jastes remained silent and glanced at Kara, rocking away in the corner of the dwelling the siblings shared. She was so in tune with the flow of battle she could identify how many shots were fired by each tower, and by which realm lord. In another time, before the clouds and rains had descended, she had been like a flower – strong, vibrant, a lover of life. Willing to open herself up to the world. Now, she was like a weed – hanging onto a dying realm as the life was choked out of it.

There were screams coming outside as minions met in battle. Jastes sat down opposite Telden and pulled himself some rum. Both had long stopped caring about the soldiers. They were near-mindless slaves of realm lords, little more than fodder for the champions they plucked to win their battles. They could not be saved. And, as he told himself, they should not be mourned. Not when so many of the living who retained their minds lost their lives.

"Time," Telden repeated. He held up his pint. "Here's to better times, eh?"

Jastes glanced at Kara, still rocking. And he turned back to his friend.

"Better times," he murmured.

And he drank, the liquor scorching his throat, tempting him with oblivion. What days could they hope for? If either realm lord won, what would it mean for them? The Raven Lord was a tyrant – he had seen the despair of Raven Court, felt the cruel touch of its sun when he'd visited his domain long ago. And the Grave Keeper…he shuddered. Tales abounded of what he got up to in the Haunted Mines. Death would be bad enough, but _undeath_ …a nightmare.

"You will fall, Raven Lord!" boomed a voice. "This is the way of the Nexus!"

Jastes cursed. The way of the Nexus. Endless conflict. Endless death. Endless misery for those who remained in the storm.

"Do you think it's true?" Telden asked, and Jastes glanced at him. "Tales of other worlds.? That the Heroes of the Storm actually come from other realities?"

"Maybe." Jastes took another sip of the rum. "I mean, the Nexus itself is a collection of worlds. Why shouldn't more exist outside it?"

Telden nodded. "How did it feel?" he asked. "Our ancestors, when their worlds were drawn in? Giving birth to children, knowing that a day would come where none would remember the lives they once had?" He sipped his swill. "Probably tasted just as bitter as this."

Jastes didn't contest the point. He'd been born in the Nexus, as had his father before him, and his father before that. Only the Heroes of the Storm could speak of worlds outside the Nexus, and they were far more concerned with the wars of the realm lords than conversing with the little people.

"One, two, three," Kara whispered. "More misery, more misery."

Telden snorted. "Your sister has the right of it."

"Doom," she whispered, and both men looked at her. And with the eyes of the damned, she looked back at them. "Towers of Doom," she repeated. "Bells toll. For all of us. Tolls, tolls, tolls the bell. Ever onwards rings to Hell."

Jastes sighed, and Telden patted his shoulder. Their families were long dead. They'd all likely be dead before the war over Vibrance ended. And by that time, who would know its old name? Who would care? The Raven Lord? The Grave Keeper? The so-called 'heroes'?

Swigging his rum, Jastes found himself looking at a half-empty mug.

It was never half-full.


End file.
